124 MAY 



ever allows herself. It is a scene never to be 

 forgotten those fairy banks, enamelled with acres 

 of azure among the grey ash-stems, with bright 

 green fern-fronds springing, and dog's mercury of 

 more sober tone. And, lo ! to add the last touch of 

 enchantment, the clouds roll aside, and the sun 

 pours down his splendour through the tracery of 

 green boughs overhead. It makes one long to 

 bring a shoal of city school children here, and turn 

 them adrift among the flowers. 



Towards the sea, the trees shrink in stature, till, 

 on the outmost verge of the wood, they are queer 

 pigmies, no higher than the enclosing dyke of grey 

 stone. Every leaf and twig that pushes higher is 

 shorn off by the salt sea wind. Beyond the wood 

 the glen sinks deeper, with steeper sides, and the 

 floral decoration changes. There are still patches 

 of blue hyacinths here and there under the lee of 

 blackthorn brake and whins, but the knolls are 

 spread with the lighter, greyer blue of the starry 

 vernal squill a relative of the hyacinth, but of 

 humbler growth and much more rare. The black- 

 thorn is out of flower, and the fire of the gorse- 

 bloom is sinking into embers, but each stunted haw- 

 thorn is breaking into creamy spray, and far and 



